


The Art of Folding

by rathrunpredictabl



Series: Miscellenous Shatterdome Moments [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Bickering intensifies, Gen, Origami, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 21:47:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rathrunpredictabl/pseuds/rathrunpredictabl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by: http://geniusbee.tumblr.com/post/65983966677/new-headcanon-that-hermann-does-origami-as-a</p><hr/><p>'Hey Hermann, what'chya doing?'<br/>'Art. Not something you would understand.'<br/>'Aw hey man origami, that's cool!'</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Folding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [geniusbee](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=geniusbee).



There is the leg division; good. Now, how to retrieve the head portion at such an angle without compromising the back ribbing…

Dr Hermann Gottlieb, of ten years decorated experience in the K-Sci department of the PPDC, lifts the bundle of folds close to his eyes and stares intently at them through his glasses. He slips his fingers into the side of the model’s chest and pulls very gently, and a section lifts up and away through a mountain fold he had prepared earlier. If he flips the other side too and twists ever so carefully…

The little figure stretches up and out, exactly as he knew it would, and he presses it to the desk and creases the folds with quiet pride.

'Hey Hermann, what'chya doing?'

'Art. Not something you would understand,' he adds. Newton goes for the bait, as he always does, and comes clumping over to his side of the lab.

'Aw hey man origami, that's cool!' he enthuses, evenly stressing the word as in Japanese. 'So that's… is that.. uh…'

'Cherno Alpha, yes, well done.'

'And this one?' he asks, pointing to the little figure hanging from a thread.

'Coyote Tango. Really Newton this only serves to confirm my suspicions - you are incapable of recognising Jaegers, but you can identify still-writhing pieces of Kaiju tissue at twenty paces. Whose side are you on?'

'Maybe it's your folding that's the problem, dude.'

'Coyote Tango had twin cannons, you dolt, and they are perfectly visible—'

'I just fail to see why this is such a problem for you I mean—'

'— on the model, you'd have to be— Really? You don't think that being constantly submerged in Kaiju faecal matter is perhaps not conducive to a balanced—'

'— it's not like it's my department to be able to recognise Jaegers on sight— Oh don't even go there, when it comes to being so far up your own ass that you can't even consider any other possible—'

'— perspective on this entire conflict, which would be— Well if you have any genuinely helpful suggestions I long to hear them, Newton, I really do, because frankly—'

'— variables like the significance of morphology, you win hands down! You gotta get away from the chalk once in a while, man, because to be honest—'

'— I think you have a problem,' they chime together, in a harmony of thought and a clash of accent and pitch.

The awkward silence stretches as they glare at one another. Hermann’s lip twitches upward at one corner in a sort of silent snarl, and he flicks his head back to the origami model. Newton makes a tense, grasping movement at thin air with his grubby hands and wheels away back to his side of the lab.

In the few blissful minutes of silence that follow, a paper plane glides across the laboratory and spikes Hermann in the back of the head.


End file.
